Lovely As You Are
by a quarter tone apart
Summary: 'Lovely as you are Undersee, you've come to the wrong place for favours.' Gale thinks that Madge lives a life worlds away from his own. After Katniss is reaped for the 74th Hunger Games, he starts to see that everyone is born under the same sun. (Gale-centric; instalments to come)
1. Under The Same Sun

Lovely As You Are

 **fandom:** the hunger games (novels)  
 **characters:** gale hawthorne, madge undersee. gale-centric with some implied gale x madge goodness  
 **summary:** 'Lovely as you are Undersee, you've come to the wrong place for favours.' Gale thinks that Madge lives a life worlds away from his own. After Katniss is reaped for the 74th Hunger Games, he starts to see that everyone is born under the same sun.  
 **a/n:** Yeah, look. If you listen to Ben Howard on a rainy day you'll start itching to throw these characters together too. Forgive me for it's been years since I actually read THG so I may inadvertently take some creative licenses with canon. Shout-out to the following authors for their Gadge-ly inspiration: Medea Smyke, Solaryllis, Canidae…particularly in case some elements from their stories are so ingrained in my head I've canonised them in my head.

* * *

On the night before the reaping for the 74th annual Hunger Games a girl who resembles Primrose Everdeen appears at the Hawthorne family's front door.

At least, this is what Gale thinks as he pulls the door open and nods for her to step inside. The Prim he knows has rosy cheeks and a ready smile. This imposter can barely look at him and instead closely examines the floorboards like she's trying to burn them into her memory. Good thing too, because the comforting look Gale attempts to give her ends up with his forehead wrinkling into a pained sigh.

"Are you nervous for tomorrow, Prim?" Nine-year-old Vick asks eagerly. Gale wants to thump his brother on the head for being so tactless, but settles for a steely glare that has a similar effect. "Not that you should be!" Vick adds quickly, flashing the sympathetic smile that Gale couldn't conjure up earlier.

"Vick, your homework won't write itself," Hazelle interjects. Prim looks relieved at avoiding Vick's question. "The dresses are all done, honey. I'd offer for you to stay, but I know you'll want to spend tonight with your family."

Prim nods quickly, offering Hazelle a smile that Gale knows is insincere. He'd know it anywhere – it's the same smile Katniss gives out most of the time. It's a small victory when he gets to see the real one; although that's usually at his own expense if he does something stupid while hunting.

* * *

Later, when he's tucking Posy into bed, he's caught off guard when the four-year-old asks him why Prim looked so sad when she came to their door that evening. He hesitates for a moment, wondering whether he should invent something far better than the truth.

"Well, Pose…" he begins, deciding that now was as good a time as any to let his sister in on a censored version of what tomorrow meant, "Tomorrow's the reaping. And since Prim is twelve now, she might get picked for…for having to leave District 12."

Posy shakes her head. "She shouldn't worry. My friend at playgroup says blonde people never get picked in the reaping."

Gale freezes; his hand resting on a tuft of Posy's black hair that he had been absentmindedly stroking. Since when are toddlers in a weekly playgroup discussing district dynamics? "Who says that?"

"Endor Cartwright. He said he watches every year and it's always people with hair like mine."

Gale frowns. Cartwright…the family owns a shoe-shop in town. Merchants. The kid was old enough to toss theories around about a class divide but had probably never heard of tesserae in his life.

"Well, he's wrong. No one's safe. No matter what colour their hair is." His tone is darker than intended and he quickly plants a kiss on Posy's forehead. "'Cept you, Pose. You're safe, and so is Prim. Those kids don't know what they're talking about."

* * *

Sleep is evasive that night. As Gale lies wide awake, he counts up all the District 12 tributes that he can remember. Seam. Seam. Merchant. Seam. Seam. Seam. Two merchants one year! Seam. Seam… he rolls in his cot so he can stifle a groan with his pillow. If it only it were as simple as the hair on his family's heads. He'd get his hands on the bucket of bleach from the school supply cupboard in a heartbeat.

* * *

That morning when the birds start chirping and he still hasn't dozed off, he decides to cut his losses and get an early start to what will be a long day. He can sleep when it's all over, he reasons. When he won't have to risk dreams of people he loves getting ripped apart limb from limb.

His good mood at presenting a fresh loaf of bread to Katniss that morning subsides all too quickly. Katniss doesn't notice, too occupied with their haul of fish and greens and berries. Thoughts swim around in his head about kids after their curt conversation. Good kids like Rory, Vick and Prim who deserve better than what this life has lined up for them. Kids like Catnip who were cheated out of being kids by the hunger in their stomachs.

And then there's kids who come from families like the Cartwrights. Chubby cheeks, round bellies and sky-coloured eyes. Sure, they might toil under the same sun and fear the same reaping but for the most part all those merchants live in a different world.

One where a loaf of bread isn't a reason to celebrate.

So when the mayor's daughter stands at the back porch of a house twice the size of Gale and Katniss' combined, wearing a pin brighter than the sunlight reflecting off her hair, Gale feels a surge of hostility that he doesn't bother to restrain.

"Pretty dress," he shoots. Out of all the clothes that had ever passed through his mother's hands and hung out to dry in his home, he's never seen anything like what Madge Undersee is wearing today. Of course, no one in the Seam tends to wear white clothes. Coal dust sees to that.

Madge looks at him, and if she's surprised he's spoken – usually he lets Katniss do the talking – she doesn't show it. "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"

Gale almost laughs. If blondes don't get reaped, Madge Undersee is the blondest of them all. He tells her this; albeit in not those exact words. He wonders what the mayor's daughter could possibly say to defend herself, but Katniss jumps in before he gets an answer.

Madge doesn't give him another glance as she presses the money into Katniss' hand and wishes her luck for the reaping. Gale is disappointed. At least if she'd tried to reason her privilege he could feel satisfied that she deserved the dig.

They're already back to the Seam when they count and divide the morning's haul. Gale silently mouths the numbers as he sifts through the coins. "This is what we got for the strawberries?"

Katniss nods, narrowing her eyes. "Why? Is it not enough? I figured I didn't need to count it in front of her."

Gale clenches his teeth and takes a sharp inhale of breath. "She overpaid us."

"By how much?"

"Doesn't matter." Gale snaps back. Like a few coins could magically account for having thirty less entries in the bowl this year? He didn't owe the mayor's daughter anything, and he liked it that way. Ignoring the look of bewilderment on Katniss' face, he snatches up his half of their bounty. "You go on, get ready. I'll go fix it up. I think Vick's allergic to berries anyway and he's just covering it up."

That's an exaggeration. Last time he brought berries home, Vick overindulged and complained of a stomachach for hours. But Gale doesn't feel like explaining himself to Katniss. She's a good friend, and a good listener, but often dismissive when he tries to explain why _it matters_ that Best in Class is always awarded to a merchant student ever year and _it matters_ that kids from town get sick less, but can afford medicine when they do. The mayor's daughter of all people couldn't make good the difference by giving them a tip like they were her servants.

He stalks off in the direction of town before Katniss can object.


	2. To Be Alone

The mayor's daughter doesn't answer her own back door this time. A woman with dark eyes and a smeared apron does instead.

"A young man like you should be spending the morning with his family," the Undersees' cook remarks cautiously. "Madge is with her mother."

Gale is unfazed by her judgement. What a luxury, he thinks, to be huddled around your loved ones wasting time worrying over what might happen. Reaping or no reaping, his family still needs to eat.

"I'll be a moment. I'm sure she'll want to know I'm here," he invents. He has a hand in his pocket, thumbing over the coins Madge Undersee had given them. Sure, he sometimes goes out of his way to strike a good bargain in The Hob and comes off with the upper hand. But he's no charity case. For four years he's been looking after himself, and on his own terms. No deed in this district – good or otherwise – goes unreturned and he isn't about to indebt himself now.

Madge appears at the door red-faced and puffy-eyed. "Where's Katniss?" she queries, a confused look on her face.

Gale frowns. When girls start crying, that's usually his cue to make a timely exist – or in Posy's case, hand her back to his Ma. Madge isn't supposed to be _sad._ Entitled, spoilt, perched on a high horse adorned with pink ribbons that match her own perhaps – but not _sad_.

"Still think you're going to the capitol then?"

Her mouth drops open, and she lets out a sound in between a scoff and a chuckle. "You came all the way back here to pick a fight?"

 _Yes,_ is the correct answer. "You overpaid," he explains curtly. "I don't have change, so take the rest." He extends the quart of strawberries out to her like they're diseased.

"Did I?" Madge reaches her hand behind her ear and stops short when she feels empty space where her hair should be.

Presumably, she was searching for a tendril of hair to twirl between her fingers. Gale's seen her doing it before. Sitting across from Katniss at lunch; out in the schoolyard with her nose in a book. Not that he goes out of his way to look. The mayor's daughter always tends to stand out. It's not just because of her hair - which Gale has never seen tied up before the way it is now, pulled back tightly from her face without so much a strand to spare – but her quietness sets her apart. In Gale's world of scrabbling siblings and friends his age who aren't much tamer, the mayor's daughter is decidedly otherworldly.

"An enigma," his friend Thom once said when he caught Gale sparing Madge Undersee a glance for just a second too long. "Never thought you were the type to want something you can't have," he'd teased. Gale had written that off. _Want_ is a far cry from how he feels about the mayor's daughter, he'd assured his friend.

Gale can still picture Thom's knowing grin; which is infuriating. There's nothing to know. So the mayor's daughter has a pretty face. Nothing worth stopping the mines over.

Now, he wants to shake the strawberries in her face. "Just take them. Then we're square. Maybe next time save your change for us. We don't take tips."

Her face is unreadable, but to Gale's relief she accepts the fruit. "This couldn't wait?" she finally says.

"Forgive me for not suiting your schedule." Gale snaps, satisfied that he's had the last word in what has been an entirely unsatisfactory interaction. He turns to leave.

"Hey!" There is fire in Madge Undersee's words now as she steps onto the porch, slipping in front of a startled Gale to block his path. "Look, I know today's hard on everyone. But you could-"

"Hard?" Gale shoots back, incredulous. "A girl like you, in a house like this. What could possibly be hard? Daddy's gotta send a starving kid to an even worse form of hunger? How terrible for you."

Madge stands her ground despite standing a near foot shorter than him. A tear rolls down her cheek and she turns her head to the side as she wipes it away; as though she's disappointed in herself for showing her sadness.

"Has anyone you love ever been reaped?" she asks quietly.

Gale can't bring himself to respond, stunned at the sudden intimacy of their exchange. There's inches between them, and the air is electric with what hangs unsaid. He feels suffocated by it.

She takes his silence as an invitation. "No? Well I truly hope the odds remain in your favour." Madge uses a knuckle to brush away another tear. "I'll have the right change next time," she adds, as though their words had been purely business the whole time.

Gale watches her walk back into her house. The click of the door jolts him back to reality as the image of her golden ponytail swims before his eyes.

Hating Madge Undersee seems to get harder and harder.

When two blondes are pulled from the reaping bowl that afternoon, she even crosses his mind. He finds himself wondering what it's like to have your father shake hands with two of your classmates and congratulate them on their imminent death.

* * *

Gale's unsaid words burn a hole into his tongue like acid as the Peacekeepers drag him out of the room. _Remember, I'll be there with you. I'll be watching. I know you can come home…I want you to come home._ He swears under his breath; trying to etch the last few moments into his brain in case someone tries to rip them from him too.

"What was that?" One of the Peacekeepers jabs him in the gut. "What did you call me, boy?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. Let go of me." Gale growls, struggling to break the grasp of the two officers.

"It didn't sound like nothing to me. You want to speak a little louder and see where that gets you?"

"I hardly think that level of force is necessary." A girl's voice interjects from down the hallway. Gale looks up, and nearly swears again but he manages to restrain himself.

Madge folds her arms in a disapproving manner. "Let him go. No need to spoil what's been a wonderful reaping day." Her voice is flat. Gale glances at the Peacekeepers. Neither appears to have picked up on her sarcasm and they acquiesce.

"Tell your boyfriend to watch his mouth, miss." With a nod, the two officers have existed the Justice Building.

"They answer to you?" Gale doesn't bother to hide his disgust.

"To my father. But they should know better. It's one thing to get a little power hungry, but today while all the cameras are here? It's idiotic to draw attention to themselves." Madge explains coolly.

"That was filmed?" Gale's eyes widen in shock; he desperately combs his memory trying to remember what he said to Katniss during their rushed goodbye.

"No," Madge says quickly, biting her lip. "But…well, you never know."

Gale nods as though he's completely familiar with the idea of having his every moment broadcasted. It sickens him, and he hasn't even seen Catnip on screen yet. There'll be a recap of the reapings tonight. Katniss' competition. He shudders, and Madge notices.

"I just meant because it's the games, Gale," she says softly, almost as if she's trying to comfort him.

To Gale's surprise, it almost works. Not what she says…but the sound of his name. He doesn't think she's ever called him by his name before.

"Right," he mutters, pushing the sleeves of his uncomfortably stiff reaping day shirt up to his elbows. He nimbly undoes his top button. "You came to see her. I didn't know you were that close," he admits.

"I think we've established there's plenty you don't know about me," Madge replies smoothly. She hesitates, then takes a step towards him and rests a hand on his arm. "Starting with: I'm not your enemy. No matter how much you want me to be."

Gale looks Madge in the eyes; painfully aware of their closeness. He hasn't ever said two words to the mayor's daughter in his life and now here he is standing an uncomfortably short distance opposite her – _again_. Before he can say anything, she's turned around and left him standing alone.

Alone. He's going to have to get used to that feeling.

* * *

a/n: Thank you to those who have reviewed and followed! I wasn't sure if there'd be any takers out there for another telling of behind-the-scenes Gadge during the first hunger games but I'm thrilled and encouraged that there's a few of you out there 😊

Couple notes – to answer a question, I'm not sure how much I intend to cover in this story. Certainly until the end of the first hunger games though. I'm happy to take any feedback or comments on characterisation, too. A lot of fanfics portray Madge as pining after Gale long before the novels kick off and, well, I like to be a little subversive. From her first appearance, she's a take-no-BS kinda gal and I'm running with that interpretation.


	3. Keep Your Head Up

His family combines with the Everdeens for dinner on the evening of the reaping. Katniss' absence should be less noticeable in the whole crowd of them, but she occupies every moment.

Even if they're halfway through their fish stew and no one has mentioned her name yet.

What would she say if she were watching them, Gale wonders. Probably scold them for not enjoying a good meal. It's getting eaten, alright – Rory's bowl is practically licked clean – but Gale can hardly even taste it and judging by the silence, he's not the only one.

In class a couple years ago, they'd read some dumb love story where the heroine had been so heartbroken she couldn't eat. Gale had complained about it to Katniss one morning on the snare runs, clasping his chest and mocking the audacity of someone who _chose_ not to eat. She'd laughed at that.

This year, when Katniss had to study the same story, she wasn't all smiles. "Maybe it's supposed to be like a sickness," she'd said finally. "Like your heart's so heavy it sinks into your stomach. Or something like that."

"Like your mom?" Gale had asked quietly. It slipped out. He and Katniss didn't usually talk about her mother, or any matters of the heart.

"Maybe." Katniss had been fiddling with a blade of grass, her eyes fixed downwards away from Gale. "I'd never thought of it that way. Madge Undersee said so in class. I think she was talking about her mother."

Before Gale could ask what Madge Undersee's mother had to be heartbroken about, a squirrel had caught their eye and they were on the hunt.

Now, he pushes a bite of food around in his bowl. It's not like him to play with his food; not when he's the one responsible for hunting it. He's thinking about Katniss and how she wouldn't look at him that day; how he wishes he could catch a glimpse of her eyes looking at him again…

His spoon drops with a clatter against the bowl and he's shaken from his daze. Prim is looking at him intently, her pale blue eyes wide with concern. Sweet, kind Prim. Hardest day of her life and she's still looking out for everyone else.

"Gale, it's you!" Posy pipes up from where she's plopped in front of the Everdeens' television set.

"Oh no, honey, switch that off…" Hazelle begins, but it's too late. All eyes are on the screen, where Gale has gathered a shrieking Prim into her arms and is walking her away from the stage.

The effect is instant. Prim's eyes well with tears, like a seal stopping her from busting out with sobs all evening has been broken. Gale feels something lurch in his stomach looking at her. For a moment, he sees Madge Undersee in her place and thinks about how he treated her this morning. If someone spoke to Prim like that, he'd be the first one to set them straight. There'd probably be a line. Prim is beloved by many; for the same kindness that makes Gale feel so protective of her.

Madge, on the other hand…well, other than when Gale sees her with Katniss, Madge is usually alone. No siblings, either, so no one to rough up anyone who messed her around.

To Gale's surprise, it's Mrs Everdeen who finally marches to the television and switches it off. "We've gotten through today. Let's not do it again."

* * *

Gale tells his mother to head on home without him while he helps with the dishes. He kisses Posy goodnight and bids goodbye to his brothers before retreating to the Everdeens' kitchen.

"Something on your mind, Gale?" Mrs Everdeen isn't smiling, but there's something soft in her expression as she scrubs the bottom of a pot.

Gale is aware that he's loitering. He's also aware that Mrs Everdeen knows he's not here to be a kitchen hand, no matter what he told his mother.

"Mrs Everdeen, I-"

"Today of all days, call me Ivy, Gale," she interjects with a soft smile. "Sooner or later I hope it'll stick, but I've lost count of how many times I've asked."

"Right. Sorry," Gale says quickly. He's never really had a personal conversation with Katniss' mother. There's never been a reason to start one. "Ivy," he begins again, the name painfully unfamiliar to say, "You were friends with the Undersees, right?"

Ivy stops scrubbing, her shoulders still hunched over the pot. She places the rag down and dries her hand on her skirt, avoiding Gale's eyes. "I was friends with the mayor's wife. She was a Donner back then," she corrects quietly.

Donner. Where has he heard that name before? Ivy gives no indication for Gale to continue the conversation, but he presses on.

"Right. I thought you might have been. I mean, Katniss mentioned it." Gale is fumbling with his words and it's uncharacteristic of him. He feels like a kid fishing for a sweet treat. Since remembering what Katniss said to him about Madge's mother, he was gripped with an urge to know more. "She's friends with her daughter. Madge Undersee. She visited today, I'm not sure if you saw."

"Did she," Ivy mutters, feigning disinterest and seeking something in the kitchen to distract herself with. She picks up the rag and continues scrubbing the already clean pot.

"Do you ever see her? Mrs Undersee, I mean."

"Every now and then." Ivy seems to grow tired of being evasive. "Why so curious, Gale?"

No point in prolonging it any longer. "Katniss mentioned once she might have it tough at home because of her mother," he replies cautiously. "I guess I just wanted to know if they were okay?" His voice lifts like he's asking a question.

Ivy looks at Gale for what feels to him like a long time. Underneath the weathered lines and hardened features, she's Prim through and through. Gale wonders who she'd been more like when she was younger: Prim, nurturing and sweet or Katniss, strong and selfless.

Finally, Ivy gestures for Gale to follow him out of the kitchen. She rifles through a drawer before producing a small photograph, which she shows to Gale. Three girls, all blonde and all smiles. For a moment Gale thinks that it's Madge in the picture.

"The Donner girls were twins. As different as day and night, but few could tell them apart." Ivy says wistfully, still gazing at the photo. "I could. That's Madge's mother, with her arm around me. And that's Maysilee, with her hair in her eyes." Ivy has a smile in her voice as her thumb traces over the girls' faces. "Madge is the spitting image, isn't she? Eyes like wildflowers, all of them."

Gale nods, wordlessly holding a hand out to take a closer look at the photo. For all the likeness between Prim and her mother, they had nothing on the Donner girls.

"That photo was taken a couple months before Maysilee was reaped. Twenty-four years ago." Ivy's voice is barely a whisper now. "Her sister was never the same. How could you be? They were two halves of a whole.

"I think it got harder for her when Madge was born. I helped deliver the baby, and checked in every now and then for the first few years of Madge's life. She started to get confused. Calling her Maysilee, mixing up her days and soon enough, her years. I…tried to help her, but after a while, it got too hard to keep going back. I think today would have been especially hard."

Ivy pushes the drawer shut and leans the photo carefully against the ledge. "Katniss reminds me of Maysilee sometimes. Maysie was strong."

"So's Katniss," Gale murmurs, his eyes still glued to the picture.

Ivy nods. "If Katniss and Madge were friends, I'd say Madge could probably use a friend right now."

What is it about mothers and their ability to know _exactly_ what you're thinking, Gale wonders. "Probably. I should go home Mrs- Ivy. Thanks for…everything."

He meant to say dinner, but needed to say something more. "I'll see you at ours tomorrow for the opening ceremony." With one last glance at the photo, Gale is out the door, determined to bring the exhausting day to an end.

* * *

School is cumbersome most days; but today Gale doesn't even pretend to pay attention. Thoughts about Katniss shoot through his head like electric currents.

Apparently he's not the only one. Conversations still when he walks past, and he's getting pointed glances from every corner. So much for district unity.

He avoids the yard at lunch, choosing instead to coup up in a spare classroom scouring news wires for any update on the games. He's avoiding the rabble on purpose. There's a flurry of theories being exchanged and bets made about the prospects of Katniss and the baker boy in the games. He can just imagine what Katniss would say if he took out his temper on one of his doltish schoolmates.

 _Why does it matter what they think_. Katniss' voice echoes in his head. She always had more important things to worry about. Gale admired her for that. Maybe it's easier not to sweat the small stuff when there's a bigger picture - like hunger - tugging their attention away.

As for the biggest picture on his mind right now, all Gale is getting from the news wires are interviews and _expert_ opinions from capitol citizens. Scowling, he casts his attention out the window. His eyes land on Madge Undersee; sitting at the table she usually shares with Katniss. Her hair is in its usual messy knot at the nape of her neck. She's hiding most of her face behind a book, but Gale can tell she's not reading it. Her eyes peek out from above the pages, concentrating on one particular corner of the schoolyard.

 _Eyes like wildflowers_ , Gale hears Ivy Everdeen saying. Maybe she was on to something there, Gale concedes. But Madge's eyes are squinting, her brow furrowed. He's thankful he's not on the receiving end of her stare, but he can't work out what was her all riled up.

Madge slams her book shut and stalks across the schoolyard to confront whatever it is that's bothering her. Gale doesn't think twice before pushing the window open to get a better look. A group of town boys raucously laugh in a corner, until Madge reaches them. She swings her book back, and – _SLAM._

Madge Undersee has clocked the tailor's son in the back of the head.

Gale pulls the window shut and sprints outside. _So much for knowing your enemy,_ he thinks. Madge was right: there's plenty he doesn't know about her. Like the force of nature she is when she's angry. For once in his life, he doesn't envy the gaggle of merchant boys on the receiving end of Madge's wrath.

"Peeta is your _friend_. And Katniss could take any of you in a fight and you know it!" Madge seethes, her face flushed with fury.

"It's a joke, Madge," one of them tries to argue. Madge silences him with a stony glare.

"I saw you passing money around. What's so funny about that? You'd rather make a dime on their deaths than start a collection up to actually help them?" She's shaking now, both hands still clutching the book like she'd willingly brandish it again.

"Don't see you emptying your pockets," her victim mutters, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing.

Madge ignores his comment, instead holding the book up in defence of her actions. "It's a paperback, Orly. Stop being so dramatic," Madge spits. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."

* * *

Gale thinks she doesn't notice as he follows her inside the school building, but once they're a safe distance away from the door she whirls around with her hands on her hips. "What do you want, Gale? Here to tell me to empty my pockets too? Go ahead."

He stalls for time. What does he want? His feet seemed to have taken him inside on his own accord, but he doesn't think Madge will accept that reasoning. Stepping forward, he takes the book from her hands and turns it around so he can read the cover. It's the same love story with the heartbroken heroine. "I thought you did this in class last winter."

She eyes him warily. "I'm reading it again."

"By choice?" Gale looks aghast.

Madge sighs, a hint of a smile creeping onto her face. "Trust you to find something to pick on." She closes what distance is left between them, gently taking the book from his hands. Gale is overcome with the scent of something sweet. Like summertime.

"It's not everyone's cup of tea," she admits. "But it's comforting somehow. Books make you feel less alone, and if you re-read a book, it's like visiting an old friend."

"And they make great weapons, apparently." He raises an eyebrow and nods to the schoolyard. "Bet they never saw that coming."

Sheepish, Madge pushes a strand of hair out of her face. "They deserved it. Most people just don't talk about it and…I think that's a good thing. I don't want to condone the games." She frowns, absentmindedly running her thumb over the spine of her book. "Maybe that's a redeeming quality of this district. So when people do play into it, and at the expense of their own classmates, it just seems so much worse."

Gale cocks his head to the side, intrigued by Madge's words. She misinterprets, and takes up the defensive. "What do you want, Gale?"

He blinks. He shouldn't be surprised by her change in tone, given he's usually the first one instigate it with her, but Gale liked hearing her talk. Maybe because for once he was actually listening; rather than letting her blonde-haired, well-dressed appearance drown out her words.

"To apologise," he musters. "I know it's probably a long time coming, but I guess I figured, better late than never."

Madge looks amused. "Don't tell me. You're usually charming, and you've just reserved your off days for me?"

Gale looks at her closely, his mind casting back to the photo of the Donner twins in the Everdeens' living room. "Something like that."

"I guess I can accept." Madge twirls her hair around her finger, and Gale wonders if she purposely leaves a few strands loose from her bun just so she can distract people.

People like him.

"I mean, it might make the next couple weeks easier. If I can…I don't know. Talk to you, and not have you bite my head off." Madge adds with a soft smile.

The games. Gale realises he'd forgotten about them for a whole two minutes; the longest since the reaping. He feels a shudder of guilt for Katniss, but looks at the girl across from him. She'd want this, he tells himself. For her friends left behind to be friends.

"Come watch the opening with us tonight. Prim and her ma will be there. An extra person will hardly make a difference." Gale says, lying through his teeth about this last part.

Something swells in him when she accepts. He convinces himself it's surprise.

* * *

a/n: **Updated** two days after publishing - I felt like I need to explain why I don't think Gale would be picking fights (just yet) over Katniss being in the Games.

After reading fics by DamnDonnerGirls I couldn't resist including some Second Quarter Quell backstory to this. After all, the whole concept of this story is for Gale to figure out his world isn't so far apart from Madge's!

The name Ivy Everdeen is from Solaryllis. And in my attempt to be authentic, I googled wildflowers in the Appalachia region. Jacob's ladder is the one I settled on for being most like the Donner girls' eyes. Also...it smells like grapes, apparently. Don't me, I'm running with this.

I hope this wasn't too slow! I like a good build-up, it's my favourite part of reading fics (and writing them evidently.) It's honestly not too hard to look for ways for Madge to cross Gale's mind; especially if there's some attraction there that he won't consciously admit. More action to come, I promise. Thank you for your reviews – they're very encouraging and it feels really nice to know there's people reading!


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